


A Mutual Debt

by Schmuzz



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Historical, Fae & Fairies, First Time, Fluff, Genderqueer Character, M/M, Myan Week 2017, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-18
Updated: 2017-07-18
Packaged: 2018-12-03 21:34:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11540859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuzz/pseuds/Schmuzz
Summary: Prince Haywood is bored of the constant coddling from his tutors and chaperones, so he breaks away from a hunting party to run off into the forest for some peace and quiet.Of course, not ten minutes pass before he rides his horse into a pond and nearly drowns, and he walks out of the forest owing a life debt to a woodland fae that seems particularly invested in his personal life...





	A Mutual Debt

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to put this story out! It was done for fantasy au day in Myan Week 2017 - but I definitely ran with the prompt, so much so that I ended up writing more than what you see here, and I plan on adding a second or third part at some later time. Enjoy! :)

Their first meeting had most certainly been an accident.

There were the lectures, far too many lectures that got in the way of what he really wanted to learn, and nerve-wracking balls and dinners to attend, and too much inane etiquette that prevented him from engaging in even slightly provocative conversation with anyone. He saw an escape by riding, and had taken it upon himself to dodge the few chaperones that he had been saddled with, taking his mare and racing away from the plowed acres surrounding the castle, drawing ever closer to the dense forest that promised to be a perfect hiding place from anyone who wanted to find him.

He maneuvered his horse around thickets and ducked under low hanging branches, but his chaperones were relentless, and he could hear their hollers and the hoof beats of their greys in the distance. He kept pushing forward, pressed against his horse’s neck as the foliage grew tighter around them – until suddenly the path opened up, the trees bending into a sort of tunnel, leading as far as the eye could see, then perhaps farther. Ryan made a thoughtful noise, urging his horse to walk a few steps forward, but his mare resisted, reeling back, instead. He would have been willing to turn away from a fairy path – for if his horse resisted that must have been what this was – but the other men were drawing closer, and Ryan would much rather get lost in a different realm than deal with chastising from elevated nannies, so he urged his horse onward anyway, forcing it to run through the path at a fearful speed.

The air grew warm and pleasantly fragrant despite being so deep in the woods, like fresh rainwater in summertime. But the horse did not slow down, even though Ryan could now spot the end of the path was leading them directly into a crystal blue lake. He tugged hard at the reins, but his horse didn’t listen – or perhaps didn’t  _ see  _ – and moments later they were both hurtling into the cool water.

Ryan tried in a panic to disentangle his feet from the holds on the saddle, kicking to no avail. He was dragged around by the panicked horse, and soon lost sight of which way was the surface. He quickly ran out of air, and had to struggle against his body to not breathe in water. Moments before he thought his lungs would collapse within him, he felt hands shove his feet from their holds, and urge him to the right – or actually, to the surface, where his head broke through and he inhaled great lungfuls of air, coughing and struggling to stay above water. He was urged towards the pond’s edge, and rolled onto the grassy bank. He couldn’t bring himself to move, but he heard a great amount of splashing somewhere, the distressed whinnying of his horse, and frantic hoof beats. Someone had saved him and his horse – which had presumably run back the way it came, leaving him and his savior alone.

He still didn’t move, feeling the burning in his lungs fade and the drops of water dry on his skin. He heard soft footfalls stop by his head. He cracked an eye open, looking up at the other person.

“Are you alright?”

“I believe I’ll manage.” He coughed and swept the wet hair from his eyes. The stranger was also dripping from the water, his hair a wet mop of brown curls and the rest of his body pale and naked. Ryan hadn’t quite expected  _ that _ . “You aren’t one of the fair folk coming to spirit me away, are you?” he kidded, trying to keep his eyes from straying.

“Hm, what you say is half true.” The other sat down next to Ryan. “But I think it would be unwise to steal you away when your own kind are so close to my home.” The man’s eyes glinted, going from brown to an impossible emerald green. Ryan startled, half sitting up and trying to sidle away.

“I – I didn’t think that you were really…”

The faerie looked smug. “That I was what?”

“Real. Not  _ you  _ specifically b-but fair folk. Not that I mean to be insolent, I…” Ryan looked around, panicked, inwardly begging for his chaperones to come bursting into the clearing. Though perhaps they were smart or suspicious enough to leave an obvious fairy path alone. If only  _ he  _ had done the same. He looked back at the creature, who was most certainly amused at Ryan’s ramblings. His eyes roved along the human’s form, taking in his soaked riding wear.

“You look frightened.”

“S-Sorry?”

“Though I suppose owing a fae your life may be a frightening thing,” he supplied, raising his eyebrows in a challenging way. Ryan swallowed. It was bad to owe anyone a debt, much less one’s life, and even less to a creature that was known to steal infants and lead travelers to their own realms and trap them there. “What is your name?”

Ryan colored – he might have had dubious belief of faeries until this moment, but he knew a trick when he saw one. “I’m not telling you that!”

“What if I tell you mine?”

“You could lie.”

“Fae can’t lie.” 

Ryan blinked. “Then – then tell me, why did you rescue a drowning man?” The faerie’s cheeks pinked and he averted his eyes. “So you could capture me? Or eat me? Replace me with a changeling?”

“Because I thought you were quite pretty,” the fae answered quickly, “and I like pretty things. So, pretty thing, will you tell me your name now?”

Ryan blinked, feeling his own flush warm him through his drenched clothes. “Uh, it’s Ryan. Crown Prince Ryan Haywood.” There. He went by Ryan anyway, but the faerie remained ignorant of his true first name, that would work.

“I’m Michael, just. No need for any titles as a solitary fae.”

_ Solitary fae…  _ “You don’t have a, um, court?”

“None nearby. It’s just me and a few others in these woods. We are left to our own devices, most in your kingdom are smart enough to not go too deep into our homeland,” Michael said pointedly. Ryan winced.

“My apologies.”

Michael waved his hand. “Don’t worry. Too many court fae are overly concerned with rituals and traditions, much too stuffy for my tastes.  _ I  _ on the other hand, enjoy a surprise every once in awhile.” He grinned then, teeth just a little sharper than they ought to be. “Such as a human prince stumbling upon my home.”

“I… I can’t say I’m bored with today’s turn of events, myself. I only came down this path to ward off my chaperones for a while. It gets hard to think, with so many tutors and instructors surrounding you every minute of every hour. You would think I was five, not nearly twenty.” Michael made an agreeable humming noise. “How – how long have we been here, do you know?”

Michael cast a glance skywards, although the trees blocked out the sun. “Not too long. This is close to the fae realm, but you are very much on human soil.”

Ryan relaxed slightly. “Oh. Then, perhaps I should be on my way. Without a horse I’m sure I have much walking to do.”

Michael stood and offered his hand to Ryan, who hesitated for a second before taking it. He wondered, as Michael hauled him to his feet, if he now had another debt to fill.

“Let me escort you,” Michael offered. “I’d hate for you to get stopped on this path by something much less charming than myself.”

“How very kind of you,” Ryan managed, as Michael linked their arms together. They walked in silence for quite some time, traversing what felt like half a mile in quiet. No animals strayed near the path, so all Ryan heard was the sound of their feet on the grass. Eventually, he could resist no further: “I owe you my life, you said,” Ryan went breathlessly. “Why are you letting me leave?”

Michael made a noise in the back of his throat, his hand coming up to press against Ryan’s arm, the one that was linked with the faerie already. “I was hoping you could return, temporarily, every now and again. I would never wish to join a fae court, but it does get lonely here.”

“You wish for me to… keep you company?” Ryan ventured, frowning.

“Humans are strange. So similar and yet different enough – you could teach me about your kind, if you wish. I might find it interesting.”

“I – I could. I may have to meet you somewhere less perilous, though.”

“I’m not bound to certain spots. If you can guarantee it will be just you and I together, we could go anywhere.”

“There’s a… a little waterfall along the south side of the castle. The woods there are thin, so even at night the moon shines through the leaves. Maybe there? Tomorrow night, if my chaperones don’t rally for bars on the window and guards posted outside my bedroom door when they find me, I mean.” Michael smiled and sighed, pressing himself closer to Ryan.

“That sounds lovely.”

Ryan saw the way the trees grew more gnarled and the path narrowed further; they were coming back to the regular forest, and he could see the smashed twigs from where his horse had gone. “You may want to stay here,” Ryan murmured. “They might find it odd that a stranger is guiding me back.”

“Won’t they think me a savior?”

“Maybe, if you were dressed.” Michael cast a look down at himself and Ryan chuckled, resisting to look for himself. “Perhaps I should bring you clothes tomorrow.”

“Perhaps you should.” Michael stepped away from the Prince and instead leaned against the trunk of a twisted thorn tree, nodding for him to continue onwards.

And Ryan did, emerging damp and covered in some leaves and twigs, but nevertheless alive and well. He got a tongue-lashing from the men that went out searching for him, but all lecturing was cut short when he passed through the castle entrance and, upon one of his more lenient tutors, a Sir Ramsey, seeing him, he waved the other men off and forced Ryan up to his rooms to change and lay under the covers until he warmed up. Invariably, he fell asleep, curled in on himself, and he dreamed of brown eyes flashing green, and pale fingers reaching out to grasp him.

 

-

The next morning, Ryan woke early and went to the castle library, digging around until he found some old texts on folklore. He quickly found the sections relating to fae folk, and he sat in the library, quietly skimming over them, sometimes taking notes, until his first tutor of the day stopped in and he had to focus on his lessons. His breaks – lunch and waiting for his next tutors to arrive – were spent pouring over the various books, and by the time he had retired to his chambers, he had a neat little list of superstitions to keep in mind when he saw Michael:

  1. _Faeries were tricksters, and masters of manipulation. They could not lie, but they could warp the truth to get what they wanted._
  2. _Any further engagement with fae could make a human more interesting, increasing their risk of being carried off to their realm._
  3. _Faeries may commit acts to spread chaos or form a type of deal with a human; humans would need to pay back their debt in full, or risk more harmful actions to befall them by the hands of the fae._
  4. _Faeries could be touchy over just about anything, though it was hard to describe what specifically offended them, it was best to be cautious._
  5. _Iron could greatly hurt fae, and keep them away. As could four-leaf clovers and St. John’s wart. Faeries also enjoyed gifts, especially bread and butter and sweets._



The last point that Ryan had come across in his research, one of the only components of lore that was consistent, was that one should never,  _ ever _ consume fae food, especially in the fae realm, lest the human be trapped there forever.

With that knowledge, Ryan took precautions. That night, he got ready by the embers still burning in his room’s fireplace; dressing for warmth and mobility, he put on his hunting gear, taking a sword with him, and covered himself with a dark mantle. He also rolled up some clothes from one of the garden boys. He had no clothes that wouldn’t be noticed missing, or would even fit Michael. He had given the boy more than enough money to get something new, anyways. With a final flourish, he took a portable oil lamp, dimmed it, and left the room.

He had, on occasion, snuck out of his rooms to walk through the gardens, so going out of the castle walls was a different, but not impossible mission. The hardest part was traversing over the grounds outside the walls without shining his light, lest he alert any guards posted. Getting out into the night air, he reflexively drew his mantle around him. Even though it was spring, the nights were still proving to be chill and damp. He was just thankful it hadn’t decided to rain.

After heading southeast for some minutes he passed over some trees, and heard the telltale sound of trickling water. He set down his basket and slowly increased the light of the oil lamp, looking around.

He spotted Michael, crouched between the tree trunks, watching him.

He jolted, nearly dropping the lamp in the process. Michael rushed to his side, hands hovering like he wanted to calm him but didn’t know how. Ryan braced himself on a tree. “What’s  _ wrong _ with you? I thought you wanted my company, not to make me die of fright!”

“Sorry,” Michael said, decidedly pressing his hands together in front of himself.

Ryan sighed. Yelling at a faerie was probably not a great start to not offending them and their laundry list of sensibilities. Though at least Michael seemed like a less formal faerie, having no court. “No, no, it’s okay.” He set the lamp on a nearby rock, illuminating the area around them but no farther. He tugged down the hood of his cloak and found a spot on the ground that was more grass than stone to sit on. “Oh, uh, I have something for you.”

“A gift?”

“Yes, though nothing exciting. Some human clothes. He pulled out the pants, shirt, and vest. “Sorry they aren’t more regal. Though these probably fit better and are less stuffy. More befitting of a faerie, right?”

“A woodland faerie, of course. You should see some of the things worn in the courts.” Michael took the bundle of clothes, turning them this way and that before figuring out how to put them on. As he did up the buttons on the trousers he looked over at the Prince. “Was my nakedness bothering you?”

“W-what?”

Michael shrugged. “I heard that humans are strange about nudity. Especially the prim and proper ones like yourself. Did I scare you yesterday, too?”

“Oh, um. I guess it’s not really a thing to do, but I wasn’t shocked – or, displeased by it, if that’s what you mean.” Ryan thought back to some of the balls he had attended recently. “In fact, some of the human fashions are getting kind of, um, obvious.”

“Obvious?”

“Well, the fashions change, you know. These days a lot of humans that I associate with like to show themselves off even when they’re wearing clothes. The breeches get tighter every year for the men, and the women like to wear these flowy gowns where they, uh, dampen the chests. So you end up seeing quite a bit in both cases.” Michael, now fully dressed, frowned, and walked over to Ryan. He abruptly leaned down and pulled up the mantle he was wearing, showing off his clothes underneath.

“Your clothes don’t seem particularly tight  _ or  _ damp,” Michael said, sounding disappointed.

“W-we just wear those sort of things at dances. This is my hunting gear, so it’s made of sturdier material.” He wrapped the mantle tighter around himself.

“That’s too bad, it would have been fun to see you in tight breeches or a damp dress.” 

“I wouldn’t wear a  _ dress!” _

“You wouldn’t?” Michael thought a moment. “Ah, I forgot how humans get about nudity  _ and  _ differences between the sexes.”

“Differences between the - men and women  _ are  _ different.”

Michael shrugged. “I guess to you they might be. Faeries like to glamour themselves, change their appearance to whatever they want. Most of us like to look like pretty women, it gets more attention from humans you see, but I’ve always been fond of this form.” 

Ryan studied the faerie. Michael resembled a human male, down to all of the… particular body parts that came with such a label, though with some magic Ryan supposed anything could happen. “So, are you a man, or -” He blushed. “Sorry, that is a rather rude question.”

“If you want to be specific, I’m a faerie,” Michael replied with a sniff. “Though I do have a preference for this body. As fun as a more feminine form may be, this one feels more... comfortable. More like me.” He shrugged. “In either case, faeries tend not to bind themselves to an either-or choice like that. Man or woman or -” He waved his hand, “The variations continue, let’s just say.”

“I understand,” Ryan said, solemn. “Though, if I may - I admit I have a preference for this form of yours.” Michael looked over at him.

“But you haven’t seen my other forms,”

“I don’t need to,” Ryan replied, before realizing what he had said. “Though if you do put on a more feminine form - perhaps I can sneak you into a ball one day,” he said it without thinking, desperate to change the subject. But what a stupid subject to change it to! It was already hard enough to get out of the castle unnoticed, he didn’t even want to think about trying to get a custom tailored outfit for Michael and watching him all night, making sure he didn’t accidentally turn all the food into faerie gold or seduce a Duchess or something dramatic like that.

Even Michael seemed to understand the risks therein. “I don’t know, I’m not a particularly  _ refined  _ faerie. What if I steal someone away to my realm forever? That’d be embarrassing for you.”

Instead of humbly agreeing, Ryan just waved his hand. “Oh, at least  _ something  _ of interest would happen, then.” He laid on his back on the grass, staring up at the leaves and the stars that shone in between them. “Everyone is too busy acting proper for the regent and myself, it’s all a bunch of boring dances with boring girls.” He had heard, from some of his older tutors like Sir Ramsey, that when the King and Queen had been alive they had been nearly bohemian in their practices, but of course their successor until Ryan married had quickly ended that particular reign. He frowned at the thought.

“Surely they can’t  _ all _ be boring,” Michael said, drawing Ryan from his musings.

“Well, perhaps not, but I know they all dance with me because they want to marry into the family – or their parents want them to be married into the family. And they’re too busy trying to be proper, no one says anything fun or cares about anything you have to say.”

“Maybe you should come to a faerie ball,” Michael offered, laying down on the grass next to Ryan. “The courts are stuffy, but they sure know how to have fun.”

“Really?”

“Oh sure, dancing in mushroom circles all night, and devolving into a huge orgy until the morning, great fun – ow!” Ryan swatted Michael in the chest, trying to fight down a blush.

“You don’t really have  _ orgies. _ ”

Michael turned on his side to look at him. “Oh I swear they do. It’s honestly a bit too much for me. You think you’re plowing one fae and it turns out to be someone  _ totally  _ different, and of course some fae Duchess is offended you only went for their brother and not them – and then somebody is sucking your toes but you can’t see who, all of that. It’s a great big mess, honestly.”

“I think that’s kind of the point,” Ryan choked out, “of an orgy.”

“Sure, sure, but there’s always a sense of urgency to those things. I don’t like to rush around. It’s very important to take one’s time with one other person, don’t you think?” Michael’s eyes flashed green, and he brought his hand up to gesture; Ryan was suddenly nervous it would reach out and touch him and intuitively  _ know _ . “Feel everything out, as though it’s just you two in the whole world. That way you can be sure that you’re the only who did it – your body made theirs come apart. I think there might be inherent magic in that, don’t you think?”

“I – suppose,” Ryan resisted the urge to tug the hood of his cloak over his head.

Michael was quiet for a moment. “Unless…?”

“Unless what?”

“Have you never had the chance to – well you look young but you’re not a child, by human standards. Surely you must have –”

Ryan reeled back, shuffling away from Michael. “If you’re going to embarrass me the whole night then I think I’ll just be ignoring our agreement.”

Michael paused, then smiled. “You can’t do that.”

“Sure I can. I’ll marry a princess and move far, far away and not see you ever again. Faerie deal or not, I doubt you can swim across an ocean.” Ryan put his head in his hand, resolutely looking back at the castle.

“…Have I upset you that much, truly? You know I was just teasing.”

“Teasing is something friends do. Saving my life or not, we’re still just strangers.”

“Alright then, I won’t mention it,” Michael said, eyes running along Ryan’s form. “Except to say that if I’ve ever piqued your curiosity on anything, I’d be more than happy to sate it, too.”

Ryan, despite all his good breeding and his aversion to more common practices, swallowed thickly, feeling that familiar sensation of temptation deep in his belly. But he didn’t comment on it. He merely looked back at Michael, whose eyes had gone dark brown once more. “Swear you won’t mention it, then?”

“On the whole Seelie Court,” Michael solemnly swore, hand over his heart. Ryan laughed, breathing a little easier to accomplish now.

“Now don’t try that on me, I  _ know  _ you don’t belong to any court.” Michael grinned.

“You’re a fast learner.”

“Well I ought to be, I am a Prince.”

“I’m not sure those two things are entirely related,”

“I suppose not. But it’s easier to be smart when your regent has hired an entire army of tutors to mash your brain day in and day out.” Ryan rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes at the thought.

“A regent?”

“Yes – my parents died some time ago, the King and Queen. They named me their successor, of course, but in the meantime there is a royal regent to run the kingdom until I’m deemed ready.”

“And when is that?”

“Well, it depends. It wasn’t an age so much as waiting for me to be married.” Michael frowned.

“Then shouldn’t you be King by now?”

“Haven’t met the right lady,” Ryan rasped out, looking away. “Anyway, my regent’s gotten so used to running the show I feel he won’t know what to do with himself if I stepped up to handle it.”

“Is that why you’re so boxed in with chaperones and tutors? So you don’t get any decent real life experience?”

“Oh – well – I hadn’t thought about it like that…”

“My Prince, I will remind you that in the minutes it took you to break away from your chaperones yesterday, you nearly drowned yourself in a pond.”

Ryan sighed. “And I now have a faerie who has my life in the palm of his hand. I think I see your point. I may be a walking disaster.”

“I don’t think you’re that bad.” Michael said, as he laughed into his hand. In that moment he looked like a charmed lady at court. The marriage of the two images made Ryan bite his lip and looked away.

“I, um, hate to cut our first meeting short, but I might have to leave.”

“Oh,” Michael sighed. “Well, if you must. Shall we meet here tomorrow night?”

“S-sure, unless – if I’m caught and don’t show up or something.” He chanced a look back at Michael, and found that his smile was back, and had adopted that familiar, teasing quirk to it. He reached forward again and Ryan flinched, expecting to feel a burst of magic on his skin. But instead Michael merely brushed the hair from his forehead.

“You’re a young and restless Prince,” he mused, “I’m sure they’ll just assume you’re off to have some tryst with a village girl. No harm done.”

“Uh, right.” And with that Ryan stood up, replacing his hood and darkening the lamp, tramping out from under the trees and towards the castle walls. There was a force deep within him that wanted to look back into the woods, to see if he could see a pair of glowing green eyes, but he resisted, and proceeded through the garden, back to his rooms.

 

\- 

 

That had been their second meeting. And true to his word, Ryan returned, near nightly. There were some exceptions – balls that ran into the wee hours of the morning, or times when he was too exhausted from the day to go out into the forest, but for the most part he and Michael met and conversed, under the cover of trees and stars. The nights began to grow as warm as the days, and when Ryan had grown more comfortable with the location and the creature keeping him company night after night, he eventually deigned to wear simpler clothing – something thin and loose to keep him cool.

Michael picked up on it immediately, and he walked several circles around him, nimble fingers tracing along the white cotton along his back and the golden trim low on his sleeve. “Is this what you would wear to a ball when trying to be fashionable?” he asked.

“No, this is something to wear in one’s own chambers, where no one else is around.” Michael’s footsteps stopped to the side of him.

“Is that so?” he murmured, fingers creeping under Ryan’s collar, making his shoulders bunch up. Michael laughed and left his side, throwing himself onto the grass and stretching out beneath the sky. Ryan shook himself and joined him there. “Beautiful night, then,” Michael said at last. “What will we do when winter comes? The cold is awful.”

Ryan hummed in agreement. The castle’s thick stone foundation meant many of the lower rooms were cool, but in the winter, no matter how many fires were blazing Ryan would always be rubbing his hands and trying to get feeling back into his toes. Not to mention that the winter meant he had many events to attend, ones that took place far away from his kingdom, ones that were even more demanding than the garden parties held at the castle. Ryan decidedly didn’t mention that. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to bundle up with furs and come down to see you, hope I don’t catch my death while I do,” he laughed good naturedly, but the thought of it made him shiver.

“You shouldn’t visit me at the risk of your own death, my Prince.”

“I thought faeries didn’t much care one way or the other for a human’s health.”

“Really? Now who told you that?”

“No one,” Ryan said indignantly. “I read it in a book.”

“Oh, a book! Well, I’m an actual faerie – so listen right from the source. Most faeries I suppose wouldn’t care one way or another, but  _ I  _ do.”

Ryan frowned. This wasn’t the first time Michael had asserted that sort of thought. “Why –” Ryan tried to frame his question as specific as possible so Michael couldn’t weasel out of it. “Why do you care about me and my well-being so ardently?”

“Well, I –” Michael stopped.

Without thinking, Ryan reached for Michael’s wrist, tugging on it like a child at play. “Come on,” he goaded, “it was a good question, wasn’t it?”

“It was very well worded.”

“Then answer it.”

“I am under no obligation to answer it!” Michael said haughtily. “You can’t order me around.”

“I’m not ordering you around – I merely want to satiate a curiosity that you’ve sprung forth with your behavior. Surely you promised me that you could do that some months ago. So.” Michael’s pale skin darkened into a rosy color. “Can you or can you not satisfy me?”

Michael abruptly turned towards him, throwing his weight so he straddled on top of the Prince, pinning his arms to his sides. His eyes glowed iridescent in the blackness, lips curled up in a snarl. “I could satisfy you plenty, my Prince,” Michael spat, “but I don’t think you could handle it.”

Ryan had been startled by Michael’s display, but the way he held him down did little in the way of intimidation. He had once heard, or perhaps merely read, that to quarrel and to love could appear nearly interchangeable at times. He now had a startling understanding of what that idiom meant. “I bet you I could,” he challenged, already noting the breathlessness of his words. “I bet I would surprise you.”

Michael shifted back, as though he had half a mind to pull away, but after a moment, a prolonged, shared gaze between the two of them, he reared forward. He did not speak, he did not shout, but instead he pressed his lips against Ryan’s, letting go of his wrists to instead cradle his face as he kissed him.

Ryan had been continuously expecting and rejecting this moment all night – or perhaps since their first meeting. How did Michael know he would have wanted this? How did Ryan suspect that Michael’s playfulness was rooted in something more serious than his fae origins? It didn’t matter now, and with his hands free he carefully placed one on Michael’s hip, the other curling along the back of his neck.

The kiss ended, though they had only pulled their mouths away enough to breathe properly. Michael’s eyes were still glowing, and Ryan suspected that his voice was still shaky and breathless.

“I am too fond of you to let harm come your way, fae rules be damned.” Michael murmured, lips moving against Ryan’s as he spoke. “Does that answer your question, my Prince?”

Ryan didn’t think he was capable of speech, so instead he tugged Michael closer, trying to force everything he couldn’t say into the caress of his hands, the heat of his mouth, and the press of their bodies together.

 

– 

 

The majority of their meetings after the fact had been rather innocent Just kissing, just holding one another close, just Michael’s playful remarks as usual. Ryan was caught between states - wanting to do more, but too afraid to carry on. Any time it seemed like they were going somewhere, Ryan always managed to find a way to go back to the castle, leaving walls of stone between him and the forest, between him and Michael.

To the fae’s credit, Michael always seemed more disappointed in Ryan’s disappearance, than the abrupt ending of what their kisses may have led to.

“You aren’t getting bored of me, are you?” Michael asked one day. Ryan knew he wasn’t truly upset, because he was still threading English daisies and clover flowers into his hair, working through a combination of the light of the moon (nearly fully) and Ryan’s lantern. “Find a little chambermaid with starry eyes instead?”

Ryan laughed, plucking the leaves off the little flowers before handing them obediently up to Michael’s waiting fingers. “If only it were that simple.” 

“How is it complicated?”

Ryan frowned for a moment. He couldn’t quite come out and say it, could he? He turned his head. They had ventured deeper into the forest, so he could only make out the tallest spires of the castle some distance away. “Have you ever heard of the term courtly love? It’s a bit archaic in my culture, but not entirely dead.”

“I haven’t. Is it what we’re doing right now?”

“Not… entirely. It’s romantic - a man and a woman, both nobles, and one or both married or part of different social classes. They may love each other, but they can’t, um, consummate the relationship in any physical way. So they do other things.”

“What other things? Taking it up the -”

“No! Gods, no.” Ryan rubbed a hand over his flushing face. “They write sonnets and - the man does whatever the woman demands, and they declare their undying love for each other, though they can’t do more than kiss.”

“If you try to give me a handkerchief or give me a list of errands to do, I’m not gonna do them,” Michael sniffed, “if that’s what you’re trying to imply.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Michael.”

“Well, good! Now, what’s with the idea anyway? You may be woefully over regulated by your regent, but you’re no maiden with honor to protect. I thought it was perfectly normal for gentlemen to go off and have little trysts before marriage.”

Ryan groaned. “I wouldn’t know, really - you’re my first attempt at a tryst.”

“Hmm…” Michael threaded more flowers into the other’s hair. “Is that why you like to leave early? You want to remain all chaste still? You know I’d never hold you down or anything, but faeries don’t particularly enjoy the whole virginal human spiel unless we’re able to wreck it.” 

“Is that you’re way of saying you’ll get bored of  _ me  _ unless I… we… do something?” He shifted to look up at Michael, who was looking exceptionally fond.

“Of course not, my Prince.” He bent down to kiss Ryan’s mouth, just a light peck. “But I don’t want to see you pulling away from something you want unless there’s a good reason. No courtly love excuse or thinking that it’s your duty as a nobleman to be totally numb to the pleasures of life.” 

“I’ve never heard a more charming speech to advocate getting me to take off my britches.”

“Well, we can certainly keep most of your clothes on at first if you’re embarrassed…” Ryan swatted Michael’s leg, but he stayed with the faerie longer tonight than he had in weeks.

He wasn’t entirely sure what to do or when, but Michael was right; no one but the two of them would know, and it wasn’t as if there would be some evidence borne of any of their relations nine months later… And, less pragmatically, Ryan knew what he wanted, though the details of exactly what they would do together he could only try to imagine, or try to find evidence of through forgotten tomes of classical text. 

 

-

 

After so many months of sneaking away, Ryan had mastered the art of slipping through secret passageways, side stepping guards, and fading into the dark of the forest. Tonight he accomplished it during the acme of one of the castle’s famed garden parties, throwing on his velvet cloak to obscure the bottle of wine he smuggled out of the party.

Hardly one for large gatherings in the first place, he was desperate to leave this one. Evidently his moony-eyed expression and recent habit of staring off into space had given many the opinion that he was in love with somebody - perhaps one of the very ladies in attendance! Thus, he had been forced to stand up to dance thrice as many times as he was used to, and more than one lord had to pull him aside to subtly question his moods, or even push the particular virtues of their niece or daughter. It was too much. Moreover, the talk of romance and courting which had so clearly set the tone for the evening made his body ache for, well…

The garden of the castle was enclosed by walls twice his height, so while it was an outside affair, it felt infinitely more refreshing to step outside the castle property entirely, making his way to the forest. 

He knew that Michael would probably not be there, why would he? Ryan had told him he’d most likely be unavailable till the next night, and Michael accepted it, their old deal forgotten in the wake of their relationship.

Ryan leaned up against a tree trunk and sighed. He could no longer hear the sounds of music or the clattering of glasses, the rising and falling pitches of conversation all traded for the quiet of the wood.

Except…

The sound of breathing, not his own, drew close to him until the very exhales heated the back of his neck.

His haunches rose instinctively, body tensing as arms wrapped around him, one hand splayed along his chest, another inching along his thigh. 

“What are you doing here?” Lips pressed to his jugular enunciated, the words not so much heard as felt in his very veins.

“Michael,” He turned around, overjoyed to see glowing green eyes and a faux-threatening smile. He kissed him hungrily, not stopping until the faerie had pushed him back against the trunk of the tree. He panted, and Michael looked entirely pleased with himself. “What are you doing here?”

“I was creeping near the garden walls, hoping to catch a bit of the festivities. Couldn’t see much, of course, but I heard… and more important, saw a dark figure going across the lawn before the final toast was made! Had to follow behind to see what sort of person had attempted that…” Michael’s fingers fiddled with the button on Ryan’s cloak. “And look who it was.”

“I couldn’t stand it in there much longer,” Ryan defended. “It was hot. Overcrowded. Everyone thinks I’m about to announce my engagement to the Duchess of Hamtpon or - or something silly like that.” He sighed, and held out the bottle from the slit of his cloak. “I managed to pilfer this for you. No glasses, I’m afraid.”

Michael’s eyes zeroed in on the bottle. “Ooh,” He took it carefully, before popping off the cork with his teeth. It was quite impressive - probably to do with the fanged incisors he possessed. Michael thrusted the bottle in his direction. “Here-here, or whatever they say at these fancy toasts of yours.” Michael promptly downed a quarter of the bottle, licking his lips. “Magnificent. Come, come - let’s find a place to sit and enjoy this together.” And with that, the faerie began to weave his way through the woods, Ryan close on his heels. There was a small outcropping that appeared between the branches after several minutes - Ryan could still see the highest spires of the castle over the treetops, so they weren’t so far from the castle. “Do you think anyone will be sending out a search party?” Michael asked, collapsing onto the soft grass and patting a spot beside him. Ryan drew his cloak under himself so he sat on it, versus the rather measly party clothes he had worn.

“I hope not! I didn’t exactly excuse myself. But they’ll check the castle first - or assume I went for a walk, who knows.” He shrugged.

“You’ve gotten much more daring in your escape attempts since we first met, my Prince,” Michael surmised astutely, before offering the bottle to him.

Ryan wasn’t partial to drinking - in fact he had already consumed more than his usual amount at the party. The taste was abhorrent to him, but the way it dulled his senses made his conversations much more palatable. He took the offered wine and drank a few sips; it was sweet and acrid on his tongue, and he made a face. 

Michael laughed at him, taking the bottle back and drinking more. “This is delicious, I don’t know what you don’t like about it.”

“I can’t explain - it’s just awful!”

“You have a flush on your cheeks,” Michael remarked, laughing again when Ryan pressed the backs of his hands to his cheeks. “No, no, don’t be embarrassed - it’s quite becoming on you.”

“I think you’re biased.”

“And all the guests at your party aren’t?”

“Technically, it was the regent’s idea,” Ryan sniffed. He looked over at Michael, drawing his knees up to his chest as he did so. “And they’re not interested in… in  _ me.  _ They just think it’s so charming, that I’m in love, and they want to know which of them is going to become Princess.”

“You’re in love?”

“That’s what they all say,” Ryan grumbled, taking the wine back and forcing himself to drink another mouthful.

“And what do you say?”

“To what?”

“Being - oh, nevermind.” Michael finished the rest of the wine and set the bottle on the ground, stretching out and laying in the grass with a relaxed stretch. Ryan watched him watch the stars. “It’s lovely tonight. I’m quite glad you managed to come visit me.”

“Always,” Ryan managed to say. Maybe a promise, maybe not. He quietly coughed into his fist, feeling a bit strange. He wasn’t totally gone by any means, or about to be sick, but he had never gotten this close to being properly drunk before. Not accustomed to partaking in more than the necessary amount to be polite, Ryan felt his body grow warm after downing what had been a large glass in one sitting. 

“Are you hot?” the faerie asked, sitting up and putting a hand to the Prince’s cheek. 

“Y-Yes, though nothing serious. Just the alcohol.” 

“Ah, that happens. Take your cloak off, it looks heavy,” Michael fiddled with the clasp.

“No, it’s quite alright…” Ryan had quite a good idea that what he was wearing may be a little too tempting for Michael to bear, and he wasn’t in the mood to push any impulsive desires away. No, he was quite done with everyone wondering who he was secretly mooning over, and he had decidedly abandoned the notion of courtly love some weeks prior. Still, taking off his cloak would certainly lead to… “I’ll get it myself,” he said, and Michael put his hand down, looking a bit puzzled as Ryan stood up, undid the clasp and spread the cloak out onto the grass behind him.

He did it this way so that when he straightened up and turned around, his facing Michael with just his party dress on was more of a reveal. Looking down at the faerie, the other’s eyes had gone green again, and were impossibly big. 

It was hard to ascertain what, exactly, Michael was so focused on. Was it the tight waist coat that showed off his muscled arms and broad shoulders, or the intricately tied cravat that he was loosening at that very moment? Was it the way his britches were incredibly tight and practically sheer - with nothing underneath? The obscenity of the outfit made him blush when he got dressed that afternoon, but now Ryan felt alight with energy as he watched the other’s reaction, feeling rather regal and composed in his fineries.

Michael slowly raised his hand, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm.

“Do you find my attire satisfactory for a moonlit picnic?” Ryan eventually asked, throwing his cravat down on the spread out cloak behind him.

Michael got to his feet. “Not yet,” he said, and began to undress himself.

Now - now was the moment where Ryan wavered. Not that he was afraid, exactly, but seeing Michael’s bare skin emerge from the rags he wore for the first time in months meant that Ryan was wholly unprepared to witness such beauty unveiling itself to him. He sat down to preserve any pride he had left, but it was fruitless. Michael was a being made to seduce, enchant, draw in the curious onlooker and make them his own. The faerie knew the scope of his abilities so well it was as easy as breathing. 

How quickly the tables had turned between them! Ryan found himself mortified that he was looking, but unable to turn away in the same breath. It became obvious to him now that it was a disservice to keep Michael entrapped in clothing. The nimbleness of the faerie increased tenfold when he was clad only in his skin.

Michael sauntered the few steps towards Ryan, and sank down into his lap with a smile that made everything within the Prince ache.

“Are you embarrassed?” he asked, hands spreading along Ryan’s chest to open his waist jacket. It took some tugging to pull the sleeves from his arms, leaving him with just a thin, white shirt and britches, and black boots.

“It isn’t that,” Ryan managed, breathless already. “It’s just, you see, um. I don’t exactly know what to do.”

“Silly Prince,” Michael murmured, pressing a sweet kiss to Ryan’s burning mouth, “I can show you.”

There was a flurry of kisses then, and Ryan lost himself in the heat of Michael on top of him, of his arms encircling him and his lips pressing along his face, his jaw, his neck. Ryan resolved to pull the faerie closer, wishing he would only kiss his mouth to swallow down the wanton noises that were escaping from his throat without his consent, revealing to the both of them how much he wanted this.

Because he did want this - had probably wanted it for longer than he’d dare to admit. But there was still something that made him hesitate; perhaps it was the vast discrepancy in experience the pair of them had. Or the fact that they were outside, and though unlikely it was possible that someone would come to search for him in the woods and leave his affair to be discovered, and beneath it all was the thought that this was all a drawn out ploy, and by tomorrow, Michael would either have lost that fond spark in his eye, or the soft smile at Ryan’s commentary, or would simply disappear into the woods forever.

He realized, belatedly, that Michael was staring inquiringly at him. Probably for some time. Before Ryan could get out an excuse, or any word at all, Michael forged ahead: “Do you trust me?”

Hm. Well. 

“Yes,” Ryan answered, forcing down any pragmatic sense he had left that hadn’t been dulled by the wine. Because certainly, for all his fears, if he didn’t trust Michael, why was he here?

“Then let me take care of you this time, my Prince. Don’t worry about what to do just yet.” Michael’s hands were creeping down his chest, unbuttoning his shirt but not throwing it open, saving him some modesty even as the other’s hand gently stroked his length through the fabric of his britches - a touch so strange and overpowering he jumped. Michael gave him a small, disarming smile, before kissing along his neck. “ _ Relax _ ,” he instructed, between licks and bites. He felt fingers slowly opening the fly at his trousers, biting his lip when Michael’s hand wrapped around his cock, dragging it from its confines. 

Ryan hadn’t realized he had closed his eyes until that moment. When he opened them, Michael was staring up at him, eyes still luminescent emeralds. “How do you feel?” the faerie asked. As though he wanted to specify what  _ part  _ of him he was meant to think about, he lightly stroked his shaft, making Ryan gasp.

“U-Um, good. Great. Is. Is this what one does, when, uh-h!” He was cut off from his rambling when Michael began rubbing his thumb in smooth circles just along the underside of his head - it felt  _ especially  _ sensitive, and he shivered, nearly folding in on himself. 

“Have you never touched yourself like this before, my Prince?” Michael murmured. Ryan watched, with some disappointment, as the faerie slid his hand away.

“I  _ have, _ ” he managed to say, “it just feels much more, um, potent, when you do it. If that makes sense?” 

“It makes sense,” Michael said with a smile, before spitting into his palm. Ryan could have winced at the display, if Michael hadn’t immediately started to touch him again, properly stroking him with his saliva providing slick. He moaned loudly, hips stuttering up into Michael’s still moving fist. “I’ve been imagining what it’ll feel like when you do this to me,” he admitted, causing Ryan to groan again at the image. “Would you like that?”

“Y-es, I would,” he said, voice strained and out of his control. Michael leaned back down, nipping at his neck, causing him to suck in a breath as he tried to suss out the way the pain and pleasure mixed so effortlessly. 

“Shh, shh,” Michael soothed, even as his hand stroked him faster. Ryan whined still, biting desperately on his knuckle to try and keep quiet. “You’re so pretty like this, my Prince. Don’t fret, I’ll take such good care of you.” Ryan couldn’t help the way his thighs inched apart at the words, even though it made no difference with what was going on.

Of course -  _ of course  _ \- Michael noticed, anyway. “Yeah, yes, that’s it. Nothing to be nervous of, is there? You like this, don’t you?” Ryan nodded, and with some encouragement took his hand from his mouth, only to moan aloud when Michael’s hand twisted along his shaft  _ just  _ so, and his legs spread even further. God,  _ God  _ he was close. He felt a liquid pooling behind the base of his shaft, his muscles thrumming and skin buzzing, his whole body on the edge of release. 

He tried to call out Michael’s name, wasn’t sure if he quite managed it, but when he opened his eyes - when had he closed them this time? - Michael was still in his lap, holding him close with their foreheads pressed together. 

Michael’s eyes were so bright it nearly hurt to look, but he couldn’t stop himself. Watching the faerie - flushed from the pleasure he was causing to him, sweet words on his lips, mouth tasting of wine - he could only inch forward, crushing their mouths together in a desperate kiss as his body gave in to Michael’s hand stripping his cock so expertly, and he came, shaking and panting against the other’s lips.

It felt - there were no proper words. Worlds more amazing than he ever thought it could be, alone or with others. When he finally gained some sense back in his body he was holding Michael’s arms tightly, head hooked over his shoulder while the other pet his back, speaking softly about nothing. 

“There, how’s that?” Michael said, slowly extracting himself from Ryan’s hold so he could find his old shirt, wiping up the mess on his stomach - and a bit that had stained Ryan’s clothes. The cloth felt rough and cold in comparison to Michael’s skin against his, and he quickly dragged the pair of them down onto the velvet, not caring about the state he was in, only wanting to press himself tight against Michael’s warm body. “Hm, tired?” 

“A bit. Relaxed, more like.” Ryan reached his hand out, not quite sure why until Michael’s closed around his own. They entangled their fingers. “Thank you. For - showing me.” 

“Mm, thank  _ you  _ for coming all the way out here in such a delicious outfit.” Michael’s eyes had dimmed to brown, but Ryan swore he saw a flash of a green glint. “And I’d be happy to lend my services as a teacher more often, if that’s what you want.” 

Ryan snorted, rolling a bit so he was on his back. “Oh, I have  _ no  _ desire for another teacher,” he groaned.

“No?”

“No. But - what did you once say? - a lover I can have trysts with, yes? I think I’ve been in need of one of those for quite some time.”

Michael puffed out his chest, sitting up slightly. “Well, my Prince, it just so happens that you’ve lain with a particular faerie who is all too happy to take on such a demand.”

“Oh?” Ryan asked with a smile. “But I’ve heard that faeries require some token or bargain from any favors they do. What do you want of me?” He tried not to laugh as Michael pulled on an air of deep thought, before snapping his fingers in an ‘a-hah!’ moment of realization.

“I think that taking a crown Prince as my own personal lover will be quite a deal - do you think you could provide me with one?”

Ryan couldn’t hold back a snort, and he roped Michael to laying on top of him with his arms slung over his neck. “Yes,” he said, “I do believe I have one of those I can give you in return for your services as a most sublime affair. Do you accept my terms?” Michael smiled, and ducked down to press a soft kiss on Ryan’s lips.

“I believe you and I have a deal,” Michael murmured. Still on top of each other, Michael’s face was incredibly close to his own. Ryan easily tugged Michael downwards for a second, third, fourth, kiss - and so many after that…

After all, it was quite disastrous to make deals with faeries, as his studies had taught him. Which meant that it was utterly imperative for Ryan to make this one worth his while. 

 


End file.
